Endless Night
by Xendell
Summary: After Seeds of Truth/Point of No Return (spoilers!) Caithe/Faolain. They chased Wynne over half the globe, decisions were made, fates were sealed. And now here we are, facing the consequences. What will become of Sylvari now? What will become of them?


Post Seeds of Truth/Point of No Return Living World Episodes, so watch out for spoilers :) Enjoy!

* * *

"And now you know."

It was supposed to be quiet, but the world was resonating around her. She could feel the branches, the twisted vines, the very floor she stood on shudder. She could feel them grow. The egg, wrapped tightly in a backpack-like contraption on her back, hummed and glowed faintly. She needed to go, time was scarce and she had been wasting enough of it.

The kneeling figure in front of her didn't move, didn't speak. She seemed to be one with the twisting vines around her, blending in with the colours, the thorny ridges, every bloody, jagged edge. From her back up towards the shoulder the vines had infiltrated her body, growing up into a spike that seemed too big for her shoulders to carry. She stared into nothing, her eyes glowing red.

"Please, Faolain." Caithe pleaded quietly, lowering herself onto her knees and resting her palms against Faolain's back. "Say something. Anything."

.

Wynne clutched her hands in front of her chest, huddled low, her eyes full of tears. She looked for a way out, frantically, but she was trapped. There was nowhere left to run and her two pursuers were rapidly catching up. When she turned around to face them, she saw them covered in blood. Wynne's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her just how they had managed to chase her this far.

'What- what have you done? What have you done to them?" she screamed, unable to keep her voice from breaking. Caithe returned her gaze with a sorrowful expression, but before she could speak Faolain answered her, cold, hatefully.

"They stood in our way." Faolain made a sweeping gesture, raising her voice. "First you're telling us what you know, then we're taking you back and then we can all _finally_ leave this behind us."

"That is not- that's-" Wynne covered her face with her hands as she sought for words. "This is _wrong!_ Don't you realize what you have done?"

"Do not speak to me of right and wrong, Wynne!" Faolain spat, sharply stepping forward, making big angry gestures with her right hand. "You don't think it's wrong to withhold something from us that could change our entire lives? You don't think that's wrong?" Her voice lowered dangerously with each question, revealing just how thin her patience was stretched. Caithe grabbed her wrist and tugged, signaling her to back down.

"Enough, Faolain. This is getting us nowhere. Please, calm yourself." Faolain snarled at her in anger, but then took a deep breath and straightened her back, falling back into place next to Caithe.

"Caithe, you tell her to back off! She listens to you – you two have done enough damage as it is! Please, just leave me to grieve." Wynne sobbed. For a moment, there was a tense silence. Caithe looked from Wynne's tearstained face to Faolain, still silently seething. Seconds ticked by, and Caithe had this nagging feeling in her gut that she should do something, say something, but there was nothing she could say. I'm sorry we killed your friends? Let's go back empty-handed? Both options would have her cast aside and then Faolain would attack, she sensed her anger and her fear and distrust and Faolain, when did you get like this?

She wondered a second too long.

"This is getting us nowhere." Faolain said, obviously trying to remain calm. "Wynne, if you don't start talking soon you leave me no choice. I refuse to be a puppet to you and Mother simply because not all of us are like _you_."

"Can't you just take my word for it that it's none of your business, Faolain? You were never supposed to know! Please, let's go talk to Mother."

"Oh?" Faolain whispered and Caithe jerked up at the sound of Faolain's voice. That sounded _far _too amused for this conversation. She held her breath as her lover continued, "So I was right then. There _is _something."

Wynne cried harder and began to shake her head, sobbing no, no, it's nothing. Caithe just watched as she saw Faolain step closer to her sister, torn between who to support. Her heart went out to Wynne, who had just seen her friends slaughtered and was cornered, outnumbered here. On the other hand Faolain had every right to be in control over her own fate, even if Caithe did not always agree with her way of thinking. Faolain was shunned enough in the circle of Firstborn for her opinions. Caithe had long known Faolain would get into worse conflict with Mother, and that it only had been a matter of time. Caithe for one did no longer know what to believe. She did not actively follow Ventari's teachings, but did not reject them either. And as such, Caithe did nothing. She watched. She waited.

"Did you see those brambles back there, Wynne?" Faolain hissed. "Do you know what that is?"

"Bristle-burn." Wynne swallowed thickly. "You can't possibly be planning to-"

"How long will it take before you break, Wynne?" Faolain smirked at her, her eyes narrowed in an expression of contempt. "Will you make me use it, or are you going to talk?"

Wynne's mouth tightened as she looked at Faolain with disgust. "Fine. Do it." She said, digging her heels into the soft ground and straightening her back. She had just about had enough. "See how much your methods bring you. I will _never _break."

"This is not going to solve anything, Wynne, Faolain, dear-" Caithe tried to interject, but was completely ignored.

"Oh, a game it is then. Very well." Faolain smiled sweetly, too sweetly, at Wynne and turned, elegantly folding away her sleeves to collect the poisonous thorns.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Wynne turned to Caithe, desperately grabbing her shoulders. "Caithe, you have to help me, you know her, we don't have much time." Caithe seemed a little shocked at the sudden change in tone, and tried to gently pry Wynne off of her.

"Can't you just tell her what you know so that we can go? We don't have to do all this, please, Wynne, I don't want her to do this to you either."

"She will break me and you will do nothing!" Wynne fought back and hung on to Caithe's shoulders with a bruising grip. "I know you, Caithe. I won't ask you to stand up to her. But please, save me from this. If she knows, if she _ever _knows, the world will see us as monsters. She will use it against us, against Mother, Caithe, she can _never_ know!"

Caithe held her sister gently now, staring at her tear-stained face with wide eyes. "What.. what are you saying..?" she whispered, disbelief clear on her face.

"We come from the Jungle Dragon. We were meant to serve it. We belong to it."

"You're _lying!_" Caithe gasped, her fingers now digging into Wynne's arms. This was too much, too fast. This could not be happening. Wynne sobbed as she shook her head.

"I saw it in my Dream, Caithe." A sound not too far away made her fearfully scan the bristle-burn, and then she shook her head once more, new tears streaming down her face. "Here she comes. Please, Caithe, don't let her do this to me. You have to kill me now."

"I _can't-" _ Caithe gasped but Wynne covered her mouth. "You have to kill me so that she never knows. She won't harm you. Don't let me die in vain, Caithe. I _beg of you!"_

As she nodded, Caithe felt something cold in her chest she had never felt before. It was a feeling of disappointment, of regret, the icy hands of helplessness crushing her heart. Her right hand closed around the hilt of her blade, a hand she couldn't stop from trembling. Wynne's short bursts of breath made her heart beat wildly, an icy thrill that sent a feverish, nightmarish cold throughout her body. It was as if she could only see a black haze when she turned Wynne's body towards her blade.

"I will bear your pain." The words fell from her lips as the blade pierced easily through Wynne's chest. She pulled it back out with force, the sharp end tearing again through her sister, splicing her open further still. Wynne screamed, then her eyes rolled back and she went limp. Caithe let her drop down, staring at the gruesome sight for a second. She could hear her heartbeat in her chest, her breathing, her blood rushing in her ears as Wynne's pooled around her. She had never felt this _alive _and yet dead inside as she did now. Slowly, she dropped to her knees, sobbing, unknowing what else to do.

Faolain's voice seemed distant, even though she cried out the same questions Caithe asked herself.

"Caithe- Caithe! What happened, what have you done?"

"She," Caithe tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry and everything tasted like blood. "She tried to get away." _Liar._  
Faolain dropped to her knees next to her, staring at Wynne's dead body. Caithe noted from the corner of her eye how she was still carefully holding the bristle-burnthorns.

"Well.. did she talk?" There was no emotion. Faolain just looked at the corpse as if it any ordinary patch of grass. Nothing to see. Nothing to feel. No regret.

"No." Caithe shook her head. "Nothing of.. consequence." _Liar._

"Well, no one will miss a traitor." Faolain said simply. Caithe wanted to scream in anger and cry her sadness and beat her, but something held her back. She wanted to see beneath Faolain's indifferent mask. Caithe refused to believe this was all there was to it. Faolain carefully grasped Caithe's hand and held it gently.

"Thank you, dearheart, for standing by me today." Faolain let her face be troubled for the smallest fraction of a second, before smiling lightly. "It means a lot to me."

Caithe just looked at Wynne. Silence had not done her much good today, and yet there was nothing she could say. Faolain carefully nudged her arm and their eyes met.

"I love you." Faolain breathed.

"I love you too, Faolain." Caithe replied.

_Liar._

.

Caithe buried Wynne right where she died. There was no ceremony, no words were said. She just needed to get rid of the body. Needed to get rid of everything Wynne had ever known. Any traces of the burial would quickly get covered by the growing foliage.

Faolain distanced herself from all that had been left of Wynne. She sat at the riverbank, her feet just not touching the stream. Her fingertips brushed over the bristleburn, with every stroke tantalizingly close to breaking the skin. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought. After a while, Caithe sat down next to her, washing her hands in the water.

"I've been thinking," Faolain began, quietly. Caithe looked over her shoulder and waited for her to continue, shaking the water off her hands. She wished she could shake the cold feeling from her chest as easily as these droplets. When Faolain did not continue, Caithe sat upright and studied her. Faolain had resumed her idle playing with the bristle-burn, her eyes cast down.

"Perhaps," Faolain breathed deeply before continuing, "it's better if we don't return to the Grove at all." The silence that followed was loaded with tension. Caithe noticed how Faolain was averting her gaze, slowly rotating the thorned twig. Caithe had thought about it too. How she'd tell the others what had happened. _If _she'd tell them.

"Put that away, you'll hurt yourself," Caithe murmured, swatting the twig out of Faolain's hands. One of the thorns dragged a deep gash through their fingers, which made Caithe yelp and jerk her hand back in pain. Faolain simply watched a small droplet of clear golden sap well up out of the gash, then she rinsed her hand in the water, gesturing for Caithe to do the same.

"I mean it." Faolain said simply, still holding her stinging fingers in the cool water. "We could run away and build a better life somewhere. I know others who would join us."

Caithe scoffed at that. "What, Cadeyrn and his companions?" She wrinkled her nose in discontent. "You can't be serious. Would you really?" Caithe laughed, disbelieving. Faolain nodded, finally turning to Caithe as she held up her fingers and flexed them carefully.

"Yes, I would. I'd rather do anything than return to the Grove and get outcast and humiliated for being different." She looked at Caithe hopefully. "We are not the only ones."

"But I'm not like you, Faolain." Caithe had said it before she had fully realized what impact it would have. She looked at Faolain, her blue eyes wide in shock, but the other barely reacted. Faolain just smiled grimly.

"That's what you think, dearheart." Faolain chuckled.

"It's true, Faolain." Caithe tried to sound a little more resolute.

"It was not me who murdered our sister in cold blood." Faolain's reflected, her words like nails through Caithe's heart. Caithe's choked sound betrayed how badly it still hurt. "Though undoubtedly," Faolain cruelly continued, "that's not what Mother and Trahearne would believe."

"Perhaps it is indeed better if you don't return." Caithe agreed. "But I have to go back. They will come looking for us."

"You are right." Faolain smiled lightly. "When will you join me, then?" She asked as she idly interlaced their fingers. Caithe suddenly realized how different their outlooks on the future had become.

"I don't know." She sighed. "First I have to figure out a way to bring this news to the others, anyway." It was silent for a moment. She could feel Faolain's thumb stroking the back of her hand as she thought.

"Tell them I killed her," Faolain finally said. "It'll be easier for them to.. to understand. And if I'm not going back," she paused for a moment, the realization of it all slowly sinking in, "then I don't see why you'd have to undergo the punishment for this. Let them hunt me. It's not like they didn't do so before."

"This will be different, Faolain." Caithe said, alarmed. This was all rapidly spiraling out of control.

"Yes, it will be." Faolain said. "Things will finally be different." For a moment, they sat in silence, just holding hands. Faolain had a hopeful smile on her face, while Caithe just tried to comprehend everything that was happening and that would soon happen.

"About Wynne," Faolain then whispered, "I'll never tell anyone. It'll be our secret."

"It was your fault." Caithe snapped, finally letting the sadness show. "This need not have happened if you.. if you hadn't.." she groaned and did not finish her sentence, angrily wiping away a tear. She stood up and paced back and forth, trying to decide whether she was more angry or sad. Finally her anger won it from regret and she cried out at her lover. "Don't you regret what happened, Faolain? Don't you want to make amends?" Her hands were tensed into fists and she cried, trying really hard not to scream.

Faolain stood to face her at the same level, her voice low and devoid of emotion. "And give up my hard-won freedom? No, Caithe. Not for anything." She grabbed Caithe's hands, looking her straight in the eyes. "I'd kill them all if that's what it takes to be able to spend my life with you."

Caithe broke down into tortured sobs at the mere thought of it and Faolain gently embraced her, stroking her hair, hushing her quietly.

"That's not right, Faolain..." Caithe whispered through gasping breath. Faolain held her a little tighter.

"Oh my love," she said sweetly, softly rubbing Caithe's back, "just because it not right doesn't mean you would not do the same."

And at that moment, Caithe had nothing to prove her wrong.

.

Caithe's hopes draining felt like she was bleeding out, only agonizingly slow. Her hands were still on Faolain's unmoving back, barely able to register her breathing. There was no reaction, no sign of life. It was too late, far too late, and her futile attempts at trying to salvage what was left of her life were falling apart before her eyes.

She crawled over the vines to where Faolain's face was. Doubting for a second, but then she unhooked the straps from her shoulders and she let the backpack slide off, setting it aside just within reach. She made sure the egg was secure before she turned to the petrified Sylvari before her again. Trying to avoid looking at those piercing red eyes, she grasped her former lover's stiff arms and moved them aside, so she could clumsily crawl into something resembling an embrace. She leaned her cheek against Faolain's cold neck, and gently moved Faolain's arms around her waist. Their legs were tangled and uncomfortable, and Faolain's body was cold and stiff, but it reminded Caithe of a time so very long ago. She caressed her lovers cheek, unable to completely abandon hope just yet.

"I just wonder," she said, more to herself than anyone else, "if I could have prevented this, Faolain. If anything could have prevented this." She sighed, rubbing her arms, trying to warm herself a little. "Had you known earlier, maybe we could've.." she trailed off. She thought of the Pact soldiers who had turned under the influence of the Dragon. It had been inevitable from the start. The Dream had only delayed it so much.

Caithe tried to lace her fingers through Faolain's, but the hand was too stiff, frozen in a fist, sharp nails digging into the palm, dried blood under their edges. Caithe inspected them, then ran her fingers over Faolain's arm, seeing the many scratches and burns and deep wounds and rot. Thorned vines had dug deep into her body, rooting and growing as parasites under her skin.

"Did it hurt, Faolain?" Caithe asked quietly. The sight made her shudder. "Did it hurt when the Dragon took over?" In the end, she compromised by holding Faolain's hands with both of her own, keeping them close to her heart. She closed her eyes, holding Faolain's hands tighter as she exhaled.

"Wait for me a little longer, my love. It could be any day now." In the backpack Glint's egg faintly glowed, the dim light driving away the thorns around it. Caithe watched it through slitted eyes, theories and battleplans and ancient magics to slay a dragon in her head, trying her hardest to drown out that annoying voice in the back of her mind.

_Liar._


End file.
